


Letters to Past Loves

by channexmogar



Category: South Park, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Gen, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, More later - Freeform, we'll see, what even happens in to all the boys ive loved before
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:30:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16250177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/channexmogar/pseuds/channexmogar
Summary: "And then there were two.My best friend, and the boy across the railroad tracks.I still didn’t know what to do about them."When Kyle Broflovski's secret comes out, some try to make the most of it. Others don't even have a chance to have an opinion about it.





	Letters to Past Loves

**Author's Note:**

> I watched that movie once and havent even bought the book yet, but i can't not write about this. sorry. message me on tumblr @ channexmogar if its been too long since ive updated or you wanna gossip about this shit ;)

You know, it’s getting increasingly more weird to be alive in South Park the older I get. When I was younger, things felt simple and not long lasting, like they’d be over as easy as they started, and even though I hated this quiet town, I had to love it. 

Nowadays I do a lot of thinking alone. When I was eight, I had a lot of friends and really strong relationships and a reason to speak my mind whenever I could, but now is a lot of the opposite. I don’t have that many friends, for reasons simply being I didn’t talk to them anymore. Relationships went down the drain for similar reasons. With nobody to talk to, aside from a few choice people like my brother, I just… didn’t talk to anyone else. My friend list, for the second time, dwindled and dwindled until there was nothing, and, to be honest, it didn’t bother me as much as it should’ve. There are people I haven’t spoken to, feelings left unanswered, and for that reason, I wrote letters.

I know now that I am bisexual, which, writing that out already sends shivers down my spine, but back then, I didn’t. I just knew there was something wrong, rather, different, and I couldn’t say it out loud. There’s a big part of me that still can’t. So I write them down, in letters, and they sit in a dresser drawer wrapped up in an old Terrance and Phillip T-shirt that’s three sizes too small. They’re from when I was younger, confused, and wanted to put my feelings somewhere so I could lock them away. One would call them love letters to the boys that sparked my “inner gay awakening” or something, but I just wanted them to be goodbyes. Getting rid of my feelings so that I didn’t have to be different.

‘Course, that’s wrong, and it’s still wrong, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want those feelings to stay locked up in a sealed letter for all of eternity.

It was one thing for them to be letters to boys(five if we’re counting), but it was another thing for them to, for the most part, be lettters to boys that I was uncomfortably close to in my youth, with one boy being the outlier.

Isiah Jordan was a boy I met on Facebook who unfriended me soon after, but the short time we were friends left me feeling strange. He was cute, and I mean  _ cute,  _ with those glowing amber eyes of his and brown curls. We had a decent amount in common, and he sent me a postcard once. It’s right next to his letter, that sits at the bottom of a stack of other letters wrapped in the shirt in my dresser. His goodbye, not like it was my choice. Sometimes I wonder if we’d still be close had it not been for me being “Bad Friend Stock”. As my current friend list shows, though, he was right. 

David Rodriguez had eyes that I could get lost in, and I wanted to. Our friendship was brief, barely longer than Isiah’s, but he was tangible. He was real. He waited tables and hated Cartman, and god did I hate Cartman, but after he got shot he sort of decided it was over for us. We held hands once. They were small, callused, and when they wrapped around mine, even if nothing happened, I felt a little more okay . His goodbye once again, wasn’t my choice, but I knew things would just be hard. If Cartman found out there was anything there, even before David separated himself from the rest of us, there’d be no end to the jokes and comments, and I understood that. That didn’t change the fact he was damn near dreamy.

Speaking of Cartman, he was another thing entirely. I liked him; I had to, but he was such a god damn asshole that it felt wrong to. He did these  _ things,  _ you see, when i hated him the most, and it was like he was flirting with me. I know he was, there was really no way around it. Who else would sing a song of undoubtedly love to another person and then call them a number of expletives a moment later? He was deeper feeling than he’d ever let on, and while I wish i could admit that alone was perfect for me, he was still… kind of an ass. I liked his eyes too, though. One was brown and one was blue, and, while you didn’t hear it from me, he gave incredible hugs. 

And then there were two.

My best friend, and the boy across the railroad tracks.  


I still didn’t know what to do about them. 

They were so close, and so stupidley far, and I didn't want to deal with them.

But, then again, sometimes it doesn't matter what you want in the long run.


End file.
